


and there is no wind in its bells

by smolricecookie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Memories, Oikawa Tooru-centric, Post-Break Up, Sad Ending, Sad with a Bittersweet Ending, Symbolism, more bitter than sweet aha i'm sorry, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolricecookie/pseuds/smolricecookie
Summary: Oikawa’s favorite place is a tree that sits on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the sea. It reminds him of warm mornings and breezy afternoons, lazy days spent gazing at crashing waves and stressful days spent studying under the shade. Seasons that drift from summer to autumn to winter to spring under a kaleidoscope of colored foliage. And there’s always been a constant: Iwaizumi.Prompt: “Write about your character’s favorite place in the world”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	and there is no wind in its bells

**Author's Note:**

> as always, thanks to [@emilyseyebrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyseyebrow) for beta-ing, even though i made you sad :)  
> check out their profile if you like bungou stray dogs and mcyt!

Isn’t it funny how Oikawa's favorite place is a tree that he hates (or at least, wants to hate)? With its lush greenery and sleek trunk, with its deep roots and sweet smell, it’s a tree that sits lonely on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a sea. It’s a tree that, for him, represents warm mornings and breezy afternoons, lazy days spent gazing at crashing waves and stressful days spent studying under the shade. Seasons that drift from summer to autumn to winter to spring under a kaleidoscope of colored foliage. But of all the changing tides and falling leaves, there’s always been a constant: a low rumble of an answer in his mind that Oikawa refuses to hear.

There’s a funny thing about refusal, though. You can refuse anything and anyone you want, just not yourself. And he knows this, he _knows this_ , but he can’t help but try anyways.

It doesn’t work; it never does. Refusing yourself only makes the answers stronger, bolder, clearer in your mind. So what’s the answer? Well that’s Iwaizumi, of course. 

He, who took Oikawa here for the first time on a hot summer morning. 

He, who whispered “You’re the only one I’ve ever brought here” before linking pinkies with uncharacteristic gentleness and leading him under the shade of the branches. 

He, who carved a shallow heart into the bark of this lone tree. He, who hung the wind chimes that they picked out together on the lowest branch. 

He, who slow-danced with Oikawa under the stars, only the wind chimes’ soft tintinnabulation for a melody. 

He, who said “Look, these symbolize us. We’ll be together forever, just like how there will always be wind in its bells” as they laid together under a moon that peeked gently behind silver clouds. 

He, who scoffed lightly when Oikawa said “Aw, you’re such a closet romantic, Iwa-chan!”

* * *

_It was 3 in the morning, and yet there Oikawa sat, hand splayed on top of Iwaizumi’s as they stared into the softly churning sea. The rustling of leaves above them did little to quiet Oikawa’s racing mind. He lost himself in his thoughts, looking blankly at the ocean._

_“Hey, stop it,” possibly the quietest sentence Iwaizumi had ever spoken, nudging him back to present. Oikawa blinked. “I know you’re thinking too much again, your eyes get all unfocused and your face looks numb,” he blinked again as Iwaizumi continued, “You’re the one who wanted to come here and talk, so tell me what’s going on.”_

_Oikawa exhaled a forgotten breath, shuddery and uneven. He matched Iwaizumi’s hushed, undemanding tone and curled his fingers tighter around Iwaizumi’s palm._

_“I’m just… just… scared.”_

_“Of what?”_

_“Of… changing. What if… what if when we go to college, we drift apart? I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose you.”_

_“Tooru, c’mon-”_

_“Stop, Iwa-chan. Just… let me finish. I’m scared of…” his voice dropped off to a low whisper, barely audible over the flow of the sea, “I’m so scared of drifting apart, and then… and then… not caring about it. About us. What if we break up and I don’t feel sad? What if I don’t feel anything? I don’t want to stop feeling for you.”_

_He peeked at Iwaizumi, who absentmindedly caressed his wrist and looked at the stars in contemplative silence. Slowly, Iwaizumi turned to look at him and his expression was… soft. The hard lines of his face were faintly traceable and the look in his eyes were those of tranquil olive pools._

_“I don’t-” Iwaizumi’s breath caught in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll do that. You feel too much all the time for that to happen.” He reached behind the tree to reveal thin, silver wind chimes, the very same ones he and Oikawa had picked last weekend. He slowly stood and fixed them to the lowest branch of the tree, the branch dipping ever-so-slightly under its weight._

_They clinked a quiet reverie in time with the waves of the ocean as Iwaizumi settled back down to his spot beside him. And although Iwaizumi wouldn’t say anything about the chimes until days later, the weight of the action hung tangibly in the cool air._

_“There will always be wind in its bells.”_

* * *

It’s Oikawa’s favorite place.

 _But_ , he thinks with a sad serenity, _it was your favorite place first, wasn’t it._ No question mark, because there’s no question about it.

* * *

_Iwaizumi wasn’t even yelling and yet his voice was hoarse. He and Oikawa were standing under the tree, his hands trembling, searing-hot in Oikawa’s own._

_“Why… why would you do it? Is… Did he force you to… to do that with him?”_

_And that was impossibly worse. It was worse that Iwaizumi still wouldn’t believe he’d done such a thing of his own volition, and it was worse, impossibly worse, because he had no reason, no defence. Oikawa stayed quiet, tears streaming down his cheeks in thick lines, painting his face with the evidence of guilt. His nose was scrunched up and his brows were furrowed, lip trembling. The wind chimes swayed noisily, jarring and ugly. The clink, clink, clink seemed to bore into his brain, roaring in his ears and muddling his thoughts. The longer they stood in silence, the more Iwaizumi’s face fell. His grip on Oikawa’s hands tightened, and then loosened as he pulled away. An abrupt chill caught Oikawa’s palms as they dropped to his side, defeated. Iwaizumi looked at the ground, his face red from holding in tears. He blinked, and let round pearls drop in the soft dirt. He looked up, and-_

_Oikawa was scared. Iwaizumi’s eyes held a fire not even present in the most intense matches, and he wasn’t even glaring. He was looking at Oikawa, but not really. It seemed like he was looking through Oikawa, into the depths of his soul. Oikawa was scared._

_“Leave.”_

_Oikawa made no indication that he had heard, still staring at Iwaizumi blurrily through tears of silver._

_“Leave. Get out of my sight and stay there.”_

_Oikawa shakily turned on his heel. The breeze chilled him, was it usually this cold during summer? He turned back once, watched as Iwaizumi threw thin, silver wind chimes off the cliff. They landed with a discordant clanging in the rough sand. He turned around again, leaving a piece of his heart crying at the tree._

* * *

And so Oikawa sits far away, watching Iwaizumi bring someone else to his favorite place. And he smiles a sad little smile, that no one but Iwaizumi has ever seen, because he knows that he is happier with this new love than he ever was with Oikawa. After all, the bark has healed, with only the barest hint of a heart left for those who look for it. After all, the wind chimes had long been discarded, pitched into the sand below by the strong surety of Iwaizumi’s hand and the grief behind it.

And so Oikawa cries, although his nose doesn’t scrunch up and his brows don’t furrow and his lip doesn’t tremble, a kind of quiet acceptance. He just wears a sad little smile and lets diamond tears drip down smooth, porcelain skin. _I don’t want to stop feeling for you._ He’d gotten his wish, hadn’t he.

Far below the cliff sits broken wind chimes, warped and rusted. And there is no wind in its bells.

**Author's Note:**

> people who comment are sexy
> 
> if you're sad now, yell at me about it on [ twitter!](https://twitter.com/smolricecookie)


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